Like Old People
by Pomegranate Princess
Summary: Phichit agrees to go with Chris to evaluate his late parent's house.


"Awwwwe," Phichit cooed as soon as he saw where he would be staying for the next week. "It's so cute."

Chris laughed at the Thailander's exclamation of awe. He knew that the house was cute, it suited his parents perfectly. They had left him the house in the city when he had bought them a cute little cottage in the country side. The cottage suited them perfectly, it was little and cute, and allowed them to live however they wanted without the world judging them.

"Tell me what you think of it in half an hour," Chris chuckled as he unlocked the door.

"Wait, wait, I need a picture of this cute little place for my Instagram. It looks just like one of those Christmas Villages that JJ's parents keep around the winter months," Phichit begged.

"I don't really need the world knowing where my parents live," Chris sighed as he snatched the phone out of Phichit's hands playfully and ran into the house.

Phichit chased Chris into the house, as he angrily fought for his phone. Chris easily evaded the small Thai skater, though he knew that there was only so much that he could do, and only so long he could keep Phichit from finding out.

"Chris, holding it above your head isn't fair. Give it back already," Phichit begged with his large grey eyes and his lip barely poking out in the cutest whimper that Chris had ever seen.

"Okay, but I need to remind you of two things," Chris said with his face as straight as he could make it.

"Deal," Phichit smiled as he all but jumped for his phone.

"One, I told you half a million times that you didn't need to come with me for this." Chris paused as Phichit nodded in agreement. "Two, I told you that you would hate it here."

Phichit giggled as he was handed his phone back. "How could I hate being in such an adorable place. It looks like the cutest retirement cottage ever. I would love one of…" Phichit's words were cut short as he stared quizzically at his phone. "Um, Chris?" Phichit started to ask.

"Yes, mon cher?" Chris asked as he tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Why doesn't my phone show a wi-fi option for here?" Phichit asked skeptically.

"Well, that's because they don't have wi-fi," Chris said nonchalantly.

"What?" Phichit yelled, and Chris could have sworn that he had heard snow fall off of the roof in response.

Chris waited until Phichit had finished his miniature panic attack before he continued.

"Though there is a computer where you can update your Instagram and check in on social media. Though you can only use half an hour a day because they're still on dial-up," Chris explained.

"I'm okay. I got this," Phichit chanted. "I can live like this for a week."

"See, that's the spirit," Chris smiled as he led the still zombie like Phichit down the hall to their room.

"Here it is mon cher," Chris cooed as he flicked on the switch to the room that he usually stayed in when he used to visit his parents.

"Chris?" Phichit asked hesitantly.

"Ye…" Chris started until he caught sight to what he was sure Phichit was going to comment on. "What the hell happened to my king-sized bed?"

Phichit doubled over in laughter. In the middle of the room there was a futon that looked like it would end up being smaller than a double once pulled out, and a computer sitting on a desk on the other side of the room.

"They turned my room into an office…" Chris stood in shock staring at the terribly small bed that would have to fit the both of them, even though it was evident that Chris' feet would undoubtedly hang off of the end.

"When was the last time you visited?" Phichit asked.

"It's only been two years, but I've been busy," Chris stuttered as he walked over to the futon.

"Well, looks like they would have liked you to visit more often," Phichit laughed.

The two of them spent the next two hours trying to unfold the futon without breaking the thing. When it was finally flat and useable, the two of them flopped down on it and sighed. They were exasperated that it took them that long to figure it out, and that the thing hadn't snapped in half at least a dozen times.

"Fuck, this sucks," Phichit sighed.

"Hungary?" Chris asked as his stomach started to protest.

"I think you seem to be hungry enough for the both of us," Phichit laughed as he pulled Chris up from his spot. They walked back down the hall to the kitchen and came with their next challenge – the oven.

"You ever use a gas oven?" Phichit asked as they looked at the contraption in front of them.

"Nope, you?" Chris asked.

"Why is everything in this house so old?" Phichit wined as he started to look at the knobs to see what did what. He jumped back when a blue flame appeared on the closest burner, and had almost caught his hair.

"Careful, mon Cher," Chris said as he took his turn at trying to figure out the oven. He turned the middle knob and it seemed as though nothing happened.

"Did it turn on? Did it light?" Phichit asked as he went to open the door.

When he did, he saw a small light in the bottom corner and decided that maybe that meant that it had lit. He closed the oven door and looked at Chris.

"So, what are we cooking?"

"Pizza?" Chris asked as he walked over to the yellowing fridge.

"Sounds good to me," Phichit agreed as he started searching for something to cook the pizza on.

Through a joint effort a dish was found that would result in the pizza being cooked the most efficiently. It was a cookie sheet, but it was the closest thing to a pizza pan that they could find. They then sat and waited, and waited for the oven to give some sort of sign of being ready for the pizza.

"Should we just put it in?" Phichit asked as he went to open the oven.

As soon as the oven was open, the smell of gas filled the room.

"I don't think it's supposed to do this," Phichit stated as he stared at the open stove. He didn't even notice Chris run to open all the windows and doors. Eventually Chris was back and was turning the stove off.

"We are never touching this again," Chris stated. "And I am getting it removed as soon as possible."

They ended up eating chips and chocolate in front of the tv. They watched some stupid American TV show about Community college. It was pretty funny, though the one thing that had them both laughing was when one character said: And gay doesn't begin to cover it.

Chris immediately rewound and filmed the clip on his phone.

"My Instagram followers are going to have a heyday with this," Chris laughed. "They've been trying to guess my sexuality for years, and I feel like this describes me perfectly. Too fabulous for simply being gay."

Phichit doubled over at his best friend's ridiculousness. He knew that Chris didn't like to label what he was. Phichit had secretly dubbed the man pan-sexual (falling for a soul not a body) but respected his friend's choice not to put a label on it. At least Chris could laugh at himself.

They sat and watched the show for about a half hour longer before Phichit started to shiver. He was from Thailand – a beautifully tropical place – and he was sitting in a small house in the middle of Switzerland in dead winter.

"Can we turn up the heat?" Phichit asked.

"Want me to build a fire?" Chris responded.

"If that will make it warmer, then yes."

Phichit watched as Chris got up and walked outside. He returned with a couple armfuls of wood and a small basket full of kindling.

"Hey Phichit, is my wood too obvious?"

Phichit laughed at the stupid innuendo as Chris walked over to the old wood stove. He couldn't help but admit that Chris looked absolutely delicious carrying the split wood. He reminded Phichit of a lumber jack, and his build fit the trope perfectly. Phihcit allowed his mind to wander, until he was brought back to the present by Chris calling his name.

"Phichit, do you think that this is normal?" Chris asked as he remained kneeling in front of the now blazing fire.

Phichit walked over to where Chis was kneeling and considered the stove. The flames were purple.

"What the fuck?" Phichit laughed. "Did your parents add psychedelics to the wood?"

"Or maybe even the wood wants to impress me," Chris offered.

"Well, whatever the reason, it's warm, so let it be." Phichit stated as he pulled Chris away from the flames.

The two of them sat and watched Tv for a little while longer before they decided to go to bed. It was only eleven o'clock, but neither of them could keep their eyes open any longer.

"Is this what it feels like to be old?" Phichit asked as they were brushing their teeth. "Everything is more work than it needs to be, and everything else is so depressing that you can't stand to be awake?"

"Being without internet isn't that bad Liebling," Chris cooed as toothpaste dripped down his chin.

"Easy for you to say," Phichit wined. "My fans probably think that I'm dead."

"You can post something in the morning to ease their worries," Chris consoled as he walked away from the sink.

Once they were clean and in their pajamas, they both made their way into the tiny bed. They tossed and turned and tried to fit in every way possible before Chris finally stood up in a huff.

"If my feet are going to hang off anyway, they may as well be able to stay warm. Who puts the goddamn heat source in one end of the house and sleeps in the other end," Chris then picked knocked Phichit out of the bed and picked up the mattress. He carried it out into the living room and laid it down in front of the fire place.

Phichit came stumbling out of the back room with the pillows and blankets before dropping them down on the ground.

"Tonight, this will work, but tomorrow we're taking apart the couches and building a pillow fort," Phichit stated as he crawled onto the mattress with Chris.

They snuggled together on their tiny bed, and fell asleep to the soothing warmth of the fire.

The next day they would build a fort, and post pictures of it standing and collapsed on top of Chris on their Instagrams and promise to keep the stupid old people house forever – so that the kids of all of the skaters could enjoy a nice simple place.

Neither of them mentioned the thought that some of those kids would be conjointly theirs.


End file.
